


Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

by Dash_El, LittleRedRuby



Series: Rich AU [1]
Category: DC Extended Universe, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, I hope you enjoy your stay, Slow Burn, rich kids au, welcome to this madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23809042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dash_El/pseuds/Dash_El, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRedRuby/pseuds/LittleRedRuby
Summary: Whoever said money can't solve your problems must not have had enough money to solve 'em.
Relationships: Faora Hu-Ul/Lois Lane, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Samantha "Sam" Arias/Andrea Rojas
Series: Rich AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715413
Comments: 24
Kudos: 118





	Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is gonna be a wild ride.
> 
> Welcome to Rich AU, or more importantly, welcome to the AU that fixes every single thing wrong with the Supergirl tv show. 
> 
> This is the first one shot of the universe, written to give you a look inside the dynamics and world that Dash and I have built. Over time we will be adding more complementary one shots set in the same universe following the lives of Kara, Lena, Sam and Andrea.
> 
> We aren't following a set narrative, but we do have back stories and the relationships between the characters and the world that surrounds them.
> 
> Enjoy!

The MET Gala always felt too over the top for Kara's taste. 

When she was younger and just landed on Earth, never in a million years did she think she would be attending one of them.

But Faora made a small fortune by selling rare minerals from Krypton on the black market, and her quick wit helped her climb the ranks pretty easily on Wall Street. She went from being a lowly assistant to becoming one of the best stock brokers in the state and it was easy for the both of them to be considered among the country’s elite. 

That came with its own set of problems. Both Kara and Faora were anonymous enough for the general public to have no idea of who they were, but rich enough to be invited to these kinds of events. 

It didn’t help that the theme of this year's gala is Alien.

The irony wasn't lost to her.

Kara joked once about Faora letting her wear the uniform she wore to save people, which was met with a stare so deadly it almost made Kara want to swallow the suggestion. 

She still wears the red cape though, crossing it like a shawl across her chest, and under it she has a white dress, with misshapen figures that gave it an otherworldly feel to it.

Hidden under the cape she wears a House of El family crest. 

"These types of functions, it's all pretend," says Faora while fastening the pin under the red fabric, effectively hiding it, the symbol giving Kara a sense of comfort. "I know it weighs heavily on you sometimes, to keep up the charade" 

"This is to remind you of who you are. Where you came from," she continues, while placing her hands on Kara's shoulders, looking her in the eye. 

"Thanks, Mom," she says, and Faora rolls her eyes. 

To the rest of the world, Faora was her adoptive mother, a young kind-hearted woman who saw a kid struggling after her parents died in a gas leak explosion, going from foster home to foster home in dire need of stability. 

To Kara she was Commander Faora, who used to be in charge of security for her family back on Krypton. 

Faora, who got shoved into Kara's escape shuttle against her will by Alura. 

Faora, who has taken care of her ever since. 

She isn't her biological mother, but the title has been earned. 

"You think you are hilarious, Kara Zorel," says Faora while putting on the suit jacket. Her outfit is tux, with a pattern of golden curved lines that reminded Kara of Faora's battle armor. The stitching is made with golden thread and gems. 

"Learned from the best," she responds.

"Don't forget the glasses," Faora says, walking towards the bedroom door, putting her hand on the handle.

Kara grabs the glasses, which she had left on the bed. When she puts them on, her naturally blonde locks slowly turn brown, hiding her true self. 

Faora made them when Kara told her she intended to use her powers to help people. Kryptonian camouflage technology helping her hide her identity when she wasn't wearing the cape. 

Faora nods, opening the door, and they are greeted by a flurry of people working on their living room. 

There are stylists and make-up artists, putting away everything they had no use for, and a photographer setting up in a corner to take their picture before leaving for the gala. 

Faora's assistant approaches them the second the door opens. 

"Mr. Rojas is on the line, he wants to talk about his recent investment," she says, iPad in hand and phone in the other. 

Faora takes the call, walking away with the phone on her ear, leaving Kara to be swarmed by stylists. 

She doesn't miss how much they struggled when they landed on Earth, jumping from one city or another with no clear direction of how to navigate this new planet. 

But now, standing still while being prodded and poked by people she didn't even know, it makes her long for the quiet calm that came with the open road under the summer heat. 

*

Lois fucking hated this was her life now.

All it took was a picture of Bruce Wayne out and about in New York City when everyone thought he was travelling in Europe and suddenly, Lois Lane, aspiring photographer, turned into a fucking paparazzi. 

It paid the bills of her shitty apartment though, Lois wasn't a fool, living in New York was expensive, her freelance work didn't give her enough to survive, and taking pictures of famous people when they didn't want it to be taken was surprisingly easy. 

The Daily Planet had her on a shortlist for some freelance work, and tonight, she was supposed to be at the MET Gala red carpet. 

The extravagance and debauchery were going to be abundant tonight, so while she was supposed to be there to just take pictures on the red carpet, she would be a fool if she didn't take the opportunity to walk around the outskirts of the museum after the main event. 

She memorized the guest list the second she got her hands on it. The usual suspects were there, like the Luthors, showing their wealth like they were born with it and not made by the ruthless decisions of the family patriarch, currently behind bars, while the mother, Lilian, played the part of the innocent wife unaware of her husband's behavior. 

There were also the Rojas', a family of Olympic athletes who have passed down the fencing heritage for four generations now. The youngest daughter, Andrea, the most promising fencer in America of the last decade.

The Arias' were another story, the mother a chef originally from Cuba who opened her first restaurant in Miami and slowly but surely turned it into an empire. Now holding 10 restaurants across the country, currently trying to branch out internationally. The daughter, Samantha, heiress of it all, going to business school to take over in the future. 

But Zorel's were new, they seemingly dropped out of the sky about a decade ago, that's as far back as Lois could get when she researched them. Faora Zorel breaking into the Wall Street world like it was a children's game about three years ago, quickly making a small fortune and currently taking care of the businesses of the top players in New York. 

The daughter, Kara, was still a mystery, the only thing people knew about her was that she was about to finish her junior year of highschool, and that Faora adopted her when she was only twenty-three. 

Celebrities started to arrive soon enough, each with their own take of the gala's theme, and Lois' fingers couldn't move fast enough, taking hundreds of pictures in less than a minute. 

It was so extravagant it was almost grotesque, these people spending millions on jewelry and fabrics to maybe make an impact on the red carpet.

People usually forget about it after two days. 

She snaps out of her thoughts when she arrives.

Diana Prince, current director of the Louvre and renowned feminist activist was wearing a blood red gown, covered in details that reminded Lois of runes from fantasy books. The pattern almost made it look like an ancient language. 

But that wasn't the thing that made everyone pause, the biggest draw of the outfit were the wings she was wearing.

They were immense, Lois couldn't understand how Diana even had the strength to hold them up. The material looked like golden steel. Each step she took made them move slightly, like they had a life of their own. 

Snapping out of her trance, Lois' camera was the first one to flash again, moving quickly to the front of the press row, trying to get the best shot. 

One of them was bound to slip, and Lois would be there to immortalize the moment. 

And if they didn't, well...at least she was going to get the best shot of Diana Prince. 

It should feed her for at least a couple of weeks. 

* 

Sam was hiding. 

Again.

This wasn't her first MET Gala, far from it, she had been attending since she was fourteen and designers realized that the woman behind the knives was actually gorgeous, thanks to a guest appearance on MasterChef. They called her mom and she refused to attend if they didn't let her bring Sam.

She didn't hide that night, didn't have any reason to. She was confident even at that age, smiling at the cameras like she owned the place while holding her mom's hand with pride. 

But now, at nineteen, she was hiding in the damn bathroom at the MET. 

If only her body stopped playing tricks on her. 

She looked at her trembling hands; a couple of months ago these hands were different, they were sure, she moved them confidently helping her mother with numbers, holding paint brushes and moving them delicately across a canvas, or maybe a pencil, sketching cartoons to make the girls laugh.

But now, pieces of the wall lay broken across the ground, her hands unscathed but dust covered, and the trembling.

It wouldn't go away. 

Some days Sam could control it, this new strength that developed seemingly out of nowhere, she could spend hours and hours without "episodes", without breaking glass like it was paper, without crushing metal, grinding it to dust. And the strength wasn't the only change. 

Just yesterday, she jumped the last step of a staircase and...hovered, for a few minutes. 

She hears the bathroom door open and clenches her fist, willing the trembling to go away, trying to calm down the electric sensation that now lived under her skin.

"Sam?" She hears Andrea's voice, and swallows hard. "I saw your mom, she told me you were here." 

"Yeah, I'm coming out," Sam responds, after clearing her throat and shaking her hands, seeing the white dust fall. 

"I thought you did that when you were sixteen," 

"Ha ha, very funny," She opens the door, shaking her head. When she finally looks up, she stops. 

Andrea is leaning back on the sink, bright yellow short dress with puffy sleeves, and a headpiece made of gold.

Sam blinks once, twice, and clears her throat, walking to the sink to wash her hands.

"You look even more white in yellow," she says and Andrea rolls her eyes. 

"Oh, she has jokes. She who hides in bathrooms," Andrea says, crossing her arms while Sam washes her hands. 

"I wasn't hiding," Sam responds all too quickly, and Andrea cocks her head to the side, watching her carefully. 

Expectant. 

Sam has no answers for her. 

"¿Segura que estás bien?" She asks, switching to Spanish, something they did often when Lena wasn't around, it allowed them to be more frank and honest with each other. Even though Sam loved to make fun of Andrea's Argentinian accent. 

"Si, todo está bien." 

And Sam knows she is going to tell her eventually, Andrea would help her no matter what, but not yet. 

She just needed more time. 

"I like the mask by the way," Andrea says, breaking the silence while Sam dries her hands with a paper towel. The mask in question was black with silver details that covered the top half of Sam's face, the make of it giving it a lace type of pattern. 

"This whole thing is ridiculous," Sam responds. Andrea laughs, giving her a warm feeling on her chest. 

"Just wait until you see Diana Prince," Andrea says, linking their arms and walking out the door. 

*

"Do cheer up sweetie, people are looking," Lilian says, and Lena wants to strangle her. 

Of course they were looking, how could they not? Every time she remembered the disgraceful way her father was dragged out of their home, screaming that he wasn't guilty, she felt a pang of anger mixed with shame. 

They keep staring, faking smiles, and Lena is exhausted from it all. 

She didn't want to walk the red carpet today, she didn't even want to come at all. But her mother's ego wouldn't be satisfied if she stayed at home. 

"We are Luthors, Lena. It is in your blood. Your father was foolish enough to get caught, so we must remain a united front." 

So here she was, a weird sense of duty resting heavy on her shoulders while the stares of every powerful person in the city felt like a thorn in the back of her head. 

She grabs a flute of champagne from a passing server, knocking almost all of it in one go. 

For a second she thinks of throwing the glass on the floor and making a scene. The embarrassing display would give people something substantial to talk about. And Lilian would be furious. 

She is about to drop the glass when she finally sees Andrea and Sam walking towards her. 

She releases a sigh of relief, smiling softly at them. 

She's been friends with Andrea since she was five years old and their families hosted charity parties, the two of them usually the only kids at the gatherings, forming a kinship first out of necessity, but after a while they stuck together because they genuinely liked each other.

With Sam it was different, they met her at a charity event five years ago, when Sam's mother opened her first restaurant in New York and the both of them moved here to manage it. 

Sam was one of the most authentic and honest people Lena has ever known, sarcastic and not willing to put up with Andrea or Lena's bullshit for any reason. 

She loves them both dearly. 

Lena goes towards them, and Lilian doesn't protest, entertaining herself striking up conversation with a group of people near her. 

"This thing gets more ridiculous every year," says Sam when they finally reach Lena, greeting her with a hug. 

"Tell me about it. I like the mask, though,” says Lena. “I almost didn't recognize you." She hugs Andrea next. 

"Please, this doesn't hide anything," Sam responds while rolling her eyes. 

"But the racoon makeup under it does," Andrea says and Sam shoves her on the shoulder in response, her hand remaining a few seconds more than necessary. 

Huh. Interesting. 

"Are we going to the roof?" asks Lena once they all get new drinks, walking slowly through the gallery space to see the exhibition.

"Of course we are, what else are we supposed to do here?" 

It was a tradition at this point, every year at the MET they would sneak away from the main event after stealing a bottle of whichever liquor was available to go up to the roof, drinking and laughing until they felt it was enough. 

More than once they've been caught, but no one dared to question the actions of the Rojas, Luthor and Arias kids. 

Names were a powerful thing, especially if they were attached to money. So they walked like they owned the place. 

And considering the substantial donations they gave tonight, it felt like it was their right to do so.

And the MET? It was crawling with fabric and glitter, each gown more extravagant than the other. 

But no one could beat Diana Prince tonight.

"That's incredible," says Lena when she finally sees the wings up close, a remarkable piece of craftsmanship in the middle of the room. Diana gracefully moves between groups of people who greet her. 

She is currently talking to a short haired woman wearing a black tux with golden details, next to her a brunette with a red shawl and a white dress. 

"Who is she talking to?" asks Lena, realizing that this is the first time she sees them at the gala. 

"I think that's Faora and her daughter. My dad does business with her," says Andrea.

"They seem close," Lena responds after a minute, almost as an afterthought. She closely watches the way Diana puts her hand on the girl's shoulder, looking at her intently. 

"We should invite her. God knows she looks out of place here," Sam points out, noticing how the girl keeps fixing her glasses and toying with the red fabric on her shoulders. 

The short haired woman, Faora as Andrea called her, looks back to them for a brief moment, while the girl and Diana talk animatedly, she makes eye contact with Lena and turns around once again, resuming the conversation with the other two women. 

"Yeah, we should," she says, trying to look away. 

* 

Kara never thought the night would turn out like this. 

She could feel everyone's eyes on her and Faora, she could hear their whispers like they were right beside her ears, Faora's training the only thing keeping her from going insane. 

She also was used to hovering around at home, she wasn't too fond of walking, the gravitational force on earth being weaker than it was back on Krypton, which made walking take an added effort. 

It was a struggle all around, finding Diana at the gala was an oasis in the middle of the desert. 

"How are you holding up?" She asked, placing a hand on Kara's shoulder and meeting her eyes. 

"I'm...hanging in there," she says. "It's strange, there’s a lot going on. It’s overwhelming." 

"You'll get used to it, just focus on one thing at a time. It helps tune out the noise," Diana says, smiling softly at Kara. 

They met when Kara had just started putting on the cape, Faora's training was enough to get her started but considering that she didn't develop the same powers Kara now had, Diana took her under her wing, helping her spar with full force, teaching her to control her more volatile capabilities. 

"Who is she talking to?" she hears the voice almost like a whisper, and suppresses the urge to turn around and find it. 

"That's Faora and her daughter. My dad does business with her." 

"They seem close."

"We should invite her, god knows she looks out of place here." 

Kara looks at Faora then, and notices how she is already looking back at the girls that are talking about them.

"Do you know them?" she asks, curious about them. Kara avoids looking in their direction to not raise any suspicion. 

"Just Andrea's father. I stay clear of making any business with the Luthors. They always make risky choices I didn't want on my record," Faora responds when she turns around. 

"If they approach, let them. They aren't defined by their last name," Diana says, starting to walk away. "I'll see you next week, same place." 

And with a wave, she turns around, not even bothered by the wings, that continue to fold and expand depending on how much space they find. 

Kara finally turns to look at the three girls, two of them almost joined to the hip while the third one stands a few feet apart. 

Lena Luthor.

She has seen her pictures on social media before, has seen the footage of her anguished face as her father was dragged handcuffed out of their home, she can see how her stance screams she would rather be anywhere else but here. 

Kara gets a strange sensation on her chest, a constricting pressure that makes her want to step towards her, makes her want to move her hand forward until she can smooth out the frown on Lena's face with her thumb. 

She looks away. Frowning and not understanding what's happening.

*

It's easy enough to convince Andrea's father to introduce them to Faora and the girl, whose name turns out to be Kara. 

She is shy and quiet, and Lena can see Sam doing her best to get her out of her shell, mock whispering to her ear how absurd this gala is. 

That gets her laughing, and she awkwardly fixes her glasses looking down at the floor. 

Without realizing, Lena takes in a sharp breath, Andrea gives her a pointed look and she quickly looks away, clearing her throat.

What the hell was that?

"So, first time here right?" Andrea asks.

"Yes," Kara says. "The designer who dressed us tonight wants me to go into modeling, but that's definitely not my thing." She holds her clutch in front of her tightly, grabbing it like her life depends on it . 

"Ah, tried to lure you in by showing you the glamour?" Sam asks. "They tried the same thing with me a few years ago." 

"Did they back off?" Kara asks.

"Eventually. I only do shoots when my mom needs me to. For the restaurant," Sam replies. 

They fall into easy conversation after that and Lena quickly realises that Kara is... weird. But not the off putting kind of weird. Just...downright odd.

She looks at things like it is the first time she has actually seen them, eyes wide and curious. Sometimes she even stares off into space, like she is searching for something that she can't seem to find no matter how hard she tries.

But she also carries herself like she has seen it all, her awkwardness only showing with her faltering steps, like she isn't used to walking every day. And with her shoulders set into a hard line, she gives off a powerful energy that sets Lena on edge. 

There is a pull, Lena can feel it, and by the way she catches Kara's eyes from time to time, the other girl can feel it too. 

"Faora is kinda young to have a daughter your age," Andrea asks, while they start going up a set of stairs. Sam managed to steal a couple of bottles of champagne a few minutes ago, and when they all realised that there was nothing more to see at the gala, it was time to go to the roof. 

"I'm adopted," Kara says casually. 

"I...I didn't know," Andrea says, stumbling over her words. 

"It's okay. She was young when she adopted me, so it's normal that people get curious." Kara continues to follow Sam. When they reach the door towards the emergency stairs, Sam opens it with a flourish. 

"Ladies, the party awaits," she says, bowing to usher them in. Andrea laughs. 

"Why, thank you Miss Arias, how very kind of you," she says, walking past her. Lena takes the opportunity to look at Kara once more. She has her brows furrowed, like she is processing the interaction. After a few seconds she snaps out of it and smiles brightly, meeting Lena's eyes. 

"Are they always like this?" Kara asks her.

"Dumb as fuck?” Lena replies. “Unfortunately." 

Kara laughs, a full on belly laugh that seems to surprise Lena. She moves her hand to her mouth like she is trying to contain the sound. 

Lena wants to hear her laugh more.

Sam laughs with her, moving towards Lena and throwing her arm across her shoulders to drag her in. 

They move quickly up the few stairs they have left until they reach the door that leads to the roof. 

When they finally open the door the cold night air hits them with more force than Lena anticipated. She shudders for a few moments until she hears the pop of the champagne bottle open. 

She sees Sam take a swig of it, passing it up to Andrea, while Kara holds the other bottle and is in the process of opening it up. 

She fits right in with them.

* 

It was fucking cold, and Lois was exhausted. 

The hour after the red carpet ended was always chaotic, with a lot of paparazzi staying behind to get a few shots in before calling it a night. 

Amateurs. The best shots were always taken after midnight. 

The thing about this job that only a few people seemed to understand is that career making photos weren't made by being at the right place at the right time. 

You had to actively look for them, you had to pursue and follow and sometimes even fabricate the situation to get a perfect shot. 

It definitely wasn't the creative work Lois would rather be doing. 

In the quiet waiting moments when she had to camp out to get something to sell, she dreamed of her studio, a nice open space apartment on the upper east side, two walls of it made of glass to give her the perfect light. More than half of it was filled with equipment for her shoots. 

Lois could barely rent out a studio for half an hour. Her shoots now being few and far in between. 

She is currently sitting at the edge of a roof on the building across from the MET. Having found the fire escape stairs open and quickly taking the opportunity to get a vantage point.

She had seen a few celebrities on the alleyway, quiet escapades now living on her memory card. She took pictures of Helena Bertinelli leaving on her motorcycle with Dinah Lance holding her tight around the waist. That was a new development. 

She felt like a voyeur when she got this kind of material, pleasure filled faces captured in moments of vulnerability that most likely will end up on TMZ before the night was through. 

It was difficult sometimes, but she did what she had to, she refused to leave New York, the only thing waiting for her back home was an uninteresting life, maybe a marriage down the line, a couple of kids.

No, fuck that, she deserved more. She wanted more, and she would get it. Even if she had to get her hands dirty for it. 

She hears them before she sees them. There is a loud bang of a metal door and on the MET's roof she sees four figures pouring out of it. 

It's difficult to make out any details with just her sight so Lois brings her camera up, pointing it at them. 

They are four girls, champagne bottles on their hands, passing then between each other while twirling and laughing. 

She zooms in, trying to make out their faces, and it finally clicks.

Lena Luthor, Samantha Arias, Andrea Rojas and surprisingly enough, Kara Zorel. 

She starts taking pictures, capturing their freedom and laughter, the way they walk around the roof, how they drink champagne like it's water, how Kara seems to keep a distance between herself and the rest of the girls, but her attention is almost glued to the Luthor girl. 

These could be worth something, especially because they are drinking while underage. Also because of Andrea, who is an athlete that shouldn't be indulging into these types of vices, and Lena, who shouldn't be looking so carefree and in celebration while her father rots in jail. 

"If I were you, Ms. Lane, I would delete those pictures immediately," Lois hears, and jolts from the edge of the building, turning around. 

And there, standing with her hands on her pockets, the wind moving her short hair softly, stands Faora Zorel. 

"What the fuck?" she says, unable to contain herself. Her breathing increases while her heart beats away to an erratic rhythm in her chest. 

"Do I need to repeat myself?" she replies while taking two steps forward. Lois takes two steps back, colliding with the small wall of the edge of the roof. It’s the only thing preventing her from falling to her death. She shivers under Faora's hard gaze. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she asks when she musters up the courage to speak. 

"I could ask you the same thing, Ms. Lane." 

"That isn't an answer." 

"You are under no position to demand answers from me, Ms. Lane," she says while stepping forward once again, walking right up to Lois, the click of her heels resonating into the suddenly quiet night. 

Only mere inches separates her from Faora, who looks down at her with a coldness in her eyes that Lois has never seen in another person before. 

Lois clutches the camera hard between her fingers, looking around trying to find an escape route. 

"Well?" Faora asks. Lois swallows hard. 

"Well, what?" Faora sighs, shaking her head. 

"Delete the photos." 

"How much are you willing to pay for them?" she asks, and Faora's eyes widen, not expecting that answer.

If Faora wants the photos, she is going to have to buy them. 

Faora composes herself, straightening her back, Lois can see how her hands are balling up into fists inside her pockets. She chuckles, and the sound travels through Lois, resting on her chest, finding a place there. Resonating. Echoing. 

"See, Ms. Lane, I am not obligated to pay for those pictures. Those pictures have a minor in them," she says, pointing at Lois' camera. "And if you distribute them without my consent, there is no place on Earth you could hide from the lawsuit I'll present at your doorstep."

“Now wait a sec-,” Lois starts, only to be interrupted by Faora, who raises her hand, motioning her to keep quiet.

“I know what you do for a living, you can go ahead and take whichever pictures will feed you. But if they include my daughter, I simply won’t allow it.” 

“You decided to come to the MET Gala, Ms. Zorel, you knew what you were getting yourself into,” Lois responds, letting the camera hang around her neck, crossing her arms on her chest. She stands up straighter, her shoulders settling in a rigid line, forcing herself to meet Faora eye to eye.

Lois can see the way Faora’s eyes travel across her face, her gaze darting between Lois and the girls on the roof, completely unaware of what’s happening across the street. She feels sweat gather across her forehead, her heart beating a mile per second.

She’s had her fair share of difficult encounters with celebrities, screaming matches across streets and more than once she had been told to fuck off, but nothing like this moment, nothing like the judgment and contempt thats coming off of Faora, nothing like the hard stare and sheer power she exudes.

“Look,” Lois says after clearing her throat. “If you want, I can edit out your kid. She left enough space between herself and the other girls for the shot to work without her.”

Faora stays silent for a few minutes then steps back. Looking at the girls across the street, Lois turns around, and sees them all sitting down on the roof, Andrea with her head resting in Samantha’s lap while Kara has the red sash around herself and Lena Luthor.

Lois hands itch, feeling the need to take the picture. 

“I think you understand the warning now, Ms. Lane. Keep my daughter out of it,” Faora responds, starting to walk away. 

When she is about to reach the door of the building she turns around.

“You are done for tonight.” 

It isn’t a question, nor is it a suggestion. And the way she phrases it reminds Lois of her own father, the authority leaving no room for protest. She catches herself before she responds with a “Yes Sir”.

When she turns around, continuing to walk slowly, Lois puts her camera up once again, pointing it at her. 

The only source of light on the roof is a small light bulb at the top of the door, hitting Faora on her left side, her golden embroidered suit shining under the yellow light. Shadows surround her, and the silhouette she makes in the dark leaves Lois breathless.

Lois takes the picture, Faora pauses for a brief moment but continues to walk away. 

She wouldn't sell it. This one was for herself.

*

Kara must be warm. 

That's the first thing Lena thinks when Kara doesn’t shiver on the cold night air. She doesn’t seem bothered by the wind blowing softly across the roof, the way it moves her hair slowly in different directions depending on the current, she doesn’t see goosebumps on her arms, even though the sleeveless dress doesn't give her much coverage.

Lena shivers, crossing her arms across her chest, she is wearing a suit tonight, green and black, the designer didn’t want her to wear a blouse under the suit jacket so here she is, trembling, the only thing keeping her somewhat warm being the champagne. 

They laugh and talk about nonsense, commenting on the outfits of everyone they saw downstairs for a while, passing around the bottles between them. More than once Andrea’s headpiece almost falls to the ground, Sam pulling her down to sit.

“What does it matter? If it breaks, I can pay for it,” Andrea says while Sam removes it and settles it down on the ground.

“Don’t be a dick,” Sam says and Andrea rolls her eyes, falling dramatically next to Sam, lying down and resting her head in her lap.

Lena moves towards them, sitting next to Sam. When she notices that Kara doesn’t join them she turns around.

She sees her looking up towards the sky, she stands rigid, unmoving, almost statuesque while the cold night air moves the sash around her shoulders, the loose ends of the blood red fabric waving slowly in the wind. 

Lena wants to call her over, wants to bring her down from whatever place she is in right now, help her settle her feet on the ground, steadying her. 

Kara hands are unclenched on her sides, and for a second Lena feels the urge to just...take them on her own.

"Hey Zorel! Is our conversation not riveting enough for you?" Andrea asks in her usual sarcastic tone while drinking the last sips of the champagne bottle.

Lena sees Kara snap out of it, chuckling softly and moving towards them, sitting down next to Lena. 

"It's the lights,” Kara replies. “I've been living in the city for three years now and never get tired of seeing it at night."

Lena tries to move a few spaces back, putting some distance between them, but Sam is right next to her, and the only thing she feels all around her is Kara's warmth. So she stays.

"It has its charm, I guess. I've been living here my whole life," Lena says, crossing her arms and shivering. 

"Are you cold?" Kara asks her while moving her hands towards the sash around her shoulders. She unclips it and opens it up. 

It's bigger than Lena thought it would be, the fabric had been folded at least four times to pass up as a scarf, she shakes it twice to open it up completely and cross it behind her own back, offering the end of it to Lena. 

"That's very kind of you," she says while tucking herself into Kara's arm. Kara removes it immediately after Lena takes a secure enough hold on the fabric, settling her hand on what little ground remains between them. Giving her a small smile. 

Lena clutches the fabric tightly between her fist, completely aware of Kara's presence a few inches next to her. 

She takes in the details of her hand, decorated with simple yet elegant jewellery. How Kara's hand is resting on the concrete, her fingers getting a small layer of dust and dirt. 

Lena doesn't even understand why she is so fascinated by it, or by Kara for that matter. She looks up and meets bright blue eyes staring right back at her.

She searches for words that won’t come, her mind blank thinking up an excuse for staring at her for so long, an apology of some sort. She's so focused on Kara that she doesn't realize that Andrea asked her something until she is shoved on her arm, making her collide briefly with the girl. 

"The fuck, Andrea?” Lena says, turning to look at Andrea and then Sam, who only shrugs.

“I said: do you think that if I jumped from this roof our newest superhero will come to save me?” Andrea asks, smiling up at Sam who rolls her eyes.

“Please don't jump off the roof,” Kara says and Lena feels her go rigid next to her, her shoulders settling back into that hard line she saw earlier tonight in the museum. 

“I'm not. I have a gold medal to win next year,” Andrea says while sitting up once again. She closes her eyes briefly and shakes her head. Her legs shake as she tries to keep her balance.

“It's amazing that the athlete of the group can’t hold her liquor,” Lena says, snickering while Andrea shoots her a glare. 

“I still remember what happened in Ibiza last year,” Andrea responds. “You probably don’t. Right, Sam?”

“I’m not involving myself in whatever this is,” Sam says while looking at Kara. “Going back to the main topic, though, who do you think it is?”

“Who?” Kara asks, confusion clearly evident on her face.

“Our newest resident superhero,” she replies. Lena can see how Kara stays quiet for a while, her jaw tensing and the releasing while looking down at her lap.

“Well, whoever they are, I think it’s a pretty brave thing to do,” Lena says, cutting the sudden weird tension that settled between all of them. 

“Of course you do, miss ‘I’m gonna save the world with science’,” Andrea says, sitting down once again after she picks up the headpiece Sam removed earlier and putting it on.

“At least I have ambitions that aren’t self serving.” 

“Hey,” Andrea interjects, “I inspire people! I’m an athlete. I don’t do it for the glory. I do it for my country.”

“And which country is that? Have you even decided if you are gonna play for? The States or Argentina?”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Sam says, voice stern and commanding. That shuts Andrea and Lena up. “Next time, I’m taking the alcohol from you two. It always ends up like this.”

Lena feels shame resting on her shoulders. Andrea knows well how to get under her skin, and she always falls for the bait. 

“Well, I think there is merit to what you both do,” Kara chimes in after a while. “Being an athlete takes determination and it definitely can be inspiring to people. And trying to better the lives of people with science and study is what keeps the Earth moving forward.”

“Thank you!” exclaims Sam, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s not a contest,” she continues, poking Andrea’s shoulder. Andrea blushes, batting away at Sam’s hand. Lena watches the interaction intently.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Kara move her hand towards her dress pocket, pulling out her phone.

“Yeah,” Kara says into the mouthpiece. “Oh, that’s alright, you ok?” Lena can see how her brow furrows, looking to the building across the street, her eyes searching for something on the roof. Lena looks in that direction too, not noticing anything amiss.

“Alright then, see you downstairs.” She hangs up the phone, looking over to all of them apologetically.

“I gotta go,” Kara says, adjusting her glasses and beginning to stand up. She carefully takes the red fabric from Lena’s shoulders, mumbling an apology. 

“We should go too, it’s getting late,” Sam says, standing up and stretching her hands over her head.

“It was getting boring either way. Staying longer wouldn’t have changed that,” Andrea replies, shooting Lena a look. “Are you coming over tonight?”

Lena feels her cheeks flush, noticing how Kara’s eyes dart between Andrea and herself. Sam stands a few steps back, shoulders slumped.

She doesn’t want Kara getting the wrong idea, even if the wrong idea is absolutely right.

“Not tonight.”

“Have it your way then,” Andrea responds, walking with determination towards the door that will lead them down to the museum once again. Lena sighs while she watches her walk away.

“It was nice meeting you all,” says Kara, who is in the process of putting on the shawl once again, wrapping it around her shoulders and making it look exactly how it was before. “My mom is waiting downstairs for me.”

“Come on, kid, I’ll walk you down,” Sam says. “Don’t want any minors getting lost in the crowd.” 

“That’s funny,” Kara replies, “you’re funny.”

“Why, thank you. Not many people appreciate it,” Sam says while throwing her hand over Kara’s shoulder. Kara ducks her head and laughs under her breath.

“You coming?” asks Sam over her shoulder, and Lena shakes her head.

“I’m staying for a while.”

“Alright then. See you tomorrow.” She waves her goodbye, Kara doing the same. The soft smile Kara gives Lena is going to stay imprinted in her brain for the days to come.

She is about to stand up when she notices a piece of metal on the ground, exactly on the spot Kara was occupying before. She reaches out to grab it and inspects it.

It’s all white, heavy in her hand considering it’s size. The texture is metal with a relief detail on one side of it. It forms an S inside an inverted diamond like shape. The back of it has a safety pin with a few strands of red fabric still clinging to it.

 _It must be Kara’s,_ Lena presumes. She holds it up between her fingers, looking at it closely.

It doesn’t look like anything she has ever seen before.

Well, at least Lena has an excuse to see Kara again.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, if you arrived here, thank you for sticking with us and to see us jumpstart this crazy ride. This is one of the most complicated things I've ever written and I'm glad Dash and I are working closing to actually see it come to life. 
> 
> If you have questions, hit me up on Twitter @MisandristDiana or on tumblr @ biwitchofthewest.tumblr.com
> 
> Much love. <3


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